


Cirice

by St_Ciel



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: A little slap and tickle, BDSM, M/M, Mild Kink, Mild S&M, Mild flogging, Mild sensory deprivation, Side Story, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 16:39:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8021263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/St_Ciel/pseuds/St_Ciel
Summary: It wasn’t a request or concentrated thought, he merely said, ‘I like the smell of leather.’





	Cirice

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little side chapter for Fettered told from Sebastian's point of view.

Hands ruffle strands of hair, smoothing them down flat against my head. Should it be slicked back and natural? Taking a moment to examine my look my hands drop, deciding natural would be best.

Now, long sleeves or short? Perhaps long and rolled up to my elbows secured with my antique garters. I have a suspicion he would appreciate the look. Humming to myself I rack my brain on how I should complete my ensemble. Trousers, shirt, waistcoat, I can’t think of anything else to add. I don’t want to be too overdressed, especially when it comes to accessories. As Coco Chanel once quoted, if you feel overdressed you should always take off the last thing you put on. Judging by my client, elegance is critical to everything and as I wish to put him at ease, I should maintain a similar attention to detail in my own appearance.

A lot of thought often goes into what I wear for each session depending on what the client wants and what will turn them on. Those who come to me like my look. A boxers’ build with muscular broad shoulders tapering to a narrow torso and slim hips. Everything I wear highlights my tastes. As latex is my preferred fabric of choice, I normally opt for that, so long as it fits the scene. There’s something about the feel of latex on my skin, the constriction with just a bit of give. It makes me feel powerful, stern and enticing to those who kneel before me. There’s no better aphrodisiac. However today, I’m doing something different.

With that, I know exactly what’s missing, gloves. They are the perfect accompaniment for the look I’m going for.

Moving around the room I start to dress in the uniform chosen for the upcoming session.

There is no rush. I enjoy the ritual of dressing and preparing myself. Each article of clothing gives me strength, helping to become the persona required for this session. Switching from the normally everyday me to Sebastian Michaelis is a process and dressing focuses my mind, allowing me to get into the headspace I need to be the cruel, yet caring Master he deserves.

The waistband of my black leather trousers slides over my hips and I adjust myself accordingly before fastening. It’s a snug fit, contouring my assets to leave little to one’s imagination. It’s nice and I’m feeling confident as my mind plays an ideal scenario for the upcoming session. Walking through each step and anticipating his reactions. Imagining his moans, the enjoyable sounds of agony and pleasure he’s sure to make, although there’s nothing better than the real thing.

Next the shirt.

The crisp fresh pressed cotton glides over my arm, loose fabric falls on my back making the fine hairs on the nape of my neck stand. With each button I feel powerful, it’s such a heady feeling it makes me light. Flipping the collar up, I wrap a tie around my neck and put it into a tight Windsor knot. After that, on goes my newest acquirement, a black leather waistcoat to match my trousers. The fit is nice and snug around my waist sending my back ridged.

Catching my reflection in the mirror by the wardrobe, a wry smile finds its way onto my lips and I feel ready.

“You’re taking an awfully long time getting ready, Sebastian.” My colleague Angela says from the doorway. Whilst I was focused on dressing I hadn’t noticed her come in.

“Perhaps,” I say on a shrug, watching her through the reflection as I roll my sleeves to the elbows.

She’s stunning, as always, wearing a tight laced black patent corset with matching chaps and shiny thigh boots. Her pale lavender hair is down, falling loose around her shoulders. The woman embodies sex and debauchery but even though my look is subtle, I think I can rival her. There’s no competition between us, although we each have both sexes as clients, we have a mutual respect for one another.

Angela strolls over to me with a switch in her accentuated hips. Collecting the elastic garters I set out on the dressing table, she flicks one of the metal grips open with her thumb, curling her crimson colored lips into a smile.

“What’s the change?” she asks, clamping the grip down on the rolled fabric.

“There is no change, I’m taking as much care in my appearance as I would do for any client.”

She hums an acknowledgment, however I’m sure she’s not convinced.

“Was it a special request?”

“No,” I answer. “However, he is rather fussy.”

No, it wasn’t a request or concentrated thought, he merely said, ‘I like the smell of leather.’

“All right, you don’t have to share, I was merely curious,” she chuckles, attaching the second garter. Angela straightens out my sleeves and takes a step back to admire my look. “Is the waistcoat new?” she wonders aloud.

“I had it made.”

She lets out a little snort. “Of course you did.”

“What does that mean?”

“Oh nothing,” she says with a grin, taking the knot of my tie into her hands. “I heard a little gossip, you like this one.”

“I like all of them,” I reply. Angela’s nose scrunches at my remark and she twists the knot up to my Adam’s apple.

“I’ve known you for a while now Sebastian, this one is different.” Angela drops her hands and steps back to approve my look. Her head tilts as she cocks her hip to the side, finishing her assessment.

“Well then you know my rules, I don’t play with clients outside of the dungeon.” I state.

“I know,” she affirms, reaching over to pull a loose strand of thread from my shirt.

“Then you know he is no different.”

“Ever the consummate professional,” she says, tossing her hair over her shoulders. Moving around her to view myself in the mirror, I like what I see. “You look like a Butler,” she notes with a hint of sarcasm.

“Thank you my Lady, as I am here to serve, I felt it fitting to dress accordingly,” I bow with a smile and Angela responds with a hardy laugh.

“I’m sure your client will approve.”

I wonder if he will?

…

 

Back in my room, and mentally going through the checklist to prepare for the session, I move the furniture around to suit my plans. Everything to the back wall with only a chair and small table near the middle. I check the playlist to make sure the music is appropriate and seductive, slow with minimal bass today. Forgoing my typical Industrial fare to something I believe would suit him better, modern classical. From what I have gathered from snippets of conversation, he likes to play the violin, so this should be better. With the playlist perfect and the volume just right, I head to the wardrobe to choose implements for the session. Each toy selected is with him in mind, from what I want him to feel down to the color, matte black with dark blue accents.

I know what I’d like to do today, if he’ll let me.

Picking up the crop hanging from the hook in the wardrobe my hands wrap around the bottom of the tip and the handle. Bending to give it a good flex, the sound of my gloves groaning with the tensing strain hits my ears. Yes, this will do nicely. It’s really just for show, he reacts well to visual stimuli and this will help him get into his headspace.

After the crop, I select a flogger, a delightful instrument with a medium length tail. As I search for something else, my eyes land on something which makes my heart jump. It’s perfect for what I have planned. Taking it off the shelf and inspecting it, my index finger traces over the feathers making waves.

A lot of thought was put into this session although I know it’ll go unnoticed. It’s not as though it really matters I don’t really mind, there’s pride in my professional attention to detail, one could say it’s my aesthetic.

Glancing to the clock, he’ll be here soon.

A quick check of the temperature to make sure it’s comfortable in here, not too warm and not too cold, just right. Everything is in its right place. The restraints are secured to the hook on the ceiling beam, the furniture moved according to the scene.

Once satisfied everything is perfect, I take a seat on the leather chair facing the door. My legs cross allowing me to lean back, unwind, and wait for him to arrive. Rolling my neck and shoulders to relax, I take a few breaths and focus my mind.

We’re a few sessions in but the excitement rushes through me like the first time I laid eyes on him. Such a nervous disposition masked by an overwhelming haughty demeanor. The attitude and the pride, it all falls away each time I see him. He’s getting better, requesting what he wants and even enjoying it. It’s more fun for me if the client voices their choice.

People say all sorts of things to me, finding this place a church and me a hedonistic priest in who they can confess all of their sins in the form of wants and desires. Some are specific, most give an idea, but all are soft spoken about it. It’s almost as though they are ashamed of their desires, like it’s a darkness that must be kept to themselves. Perhaps they are. Maybe they think I’ll judge them but I never do, being a priest means I have sins of my own and I like to enact them from time to time. Enacting someone’s fantasies, giving them pleasure through something they’ll enjoy, there’s nothing better than that.

All are welcomed to worship here. Find solace in your desires, succumb to them and let them overtake you. There is no judgement, only enjoyment.

He’s different though, he’s still experimenting, exploring, and he’s taking me along for the ride. He wants to try new things with me and it’s been such a pleasure to see him turned on by the softest tap of my hand or the tightness of his corset. I enjoy myself with the other clients but he is something different. An intriguing character who says nothing about himself but comes to me for a release it seems only I can give him.

There’s a soft knock on the door, it must be him, 1:30 on the dot, ever the punctual one.

“Come in Ciel,” I command in a firm yet light tone. The door creaks open and Ciel slips through the small gap he’s left for himself.

Dressed in his usual wear, Ciel stands before me as a creature of pure elegance. Black slacks, sky blue shirt with a silk navy tie and v-neck button down cardigan to match. The collar of his fitted double-breasted coat stands to attention along the back of his neck as the lapels lay flat, neat against his shoulders. He must have come from work. A little afternoon tryst to relax before the weekend, well I’m honored I can accommodate.

With the wryest of smiles on my lips I lean back to observe him. He drags the nails of his fingers along the tip of his thumbs. Plump protruding lips glisten as if he’s licked them just before coming in. The knot on his tie budges from a slight swallow, which tickles me. Ciel comes to me every Friday, it’s been a few sessions now but he still seems nervy of me. I probably shouldn’t enjoy it as much as I do but it is fun to watch him hold the breath in his chest, waiting for me to say something.

“May I come in?” he asks politely. I grant permission with a simple nod. After a brief hesitation he goes to the other side of the room, unplucking the buttons from his coat with each step. “Should I undress?” he inquires, shedding his coat off and hanging it on a peg next to the door.

“Just take off your shoes and socks please,” I instruct. Ciel’s eye blinks and scans my face for any sign of what’s in store. “You may as well do away with your belt while you’re at it,” I finish, careful to keep my expression blank, of course I wouldn’t want to give the game away so soon.

Obeying my request, he kneels to unlace his shoes and starts to take them off. What a good little pet, so eager to do as asked to please me. Although focused on his task, Ciel keeps his eye on me and I reward his nervousness with a smile. Resting my chin on my knuckles I observe him like a predator doing reconnaissance on its prey. It makes note of the creatures’ weakness and how to strike all the while delighting in the idea that it will soon be caught and devoured.

Once he finishes removing his belt, Ciel stands against the wall, waiting for his next instruction with a gaze that doesn’t leave mine.

“Come here and stand still,” I direct him to the center of the room with the tip of my crop. He takes a few confident strides into the middle of the room and stops. A low growl rumbles in my chest and I uncross my legs, pressing my back against the chair. Waiting makes him nervous. His body stiffens as he rubs sweaty palms down the sides of his thighs. The corner of his lips twitch with a slight grin but he struggles to keep it from forming. What a little brat, still trying to prove his defiance.

“As per our negotiations yesterday today’s session will have a little pain play, is this still all right with you?” I re-confirm.

“Yes,” he agrees with a bow of his head.

“I shall begin by tying you up and easing you into the session.”

“Okay,” he smiles at the notion of being tied up.

“Then let’s begin,” I say, pushing myself up from the chair.

Dropping the crop down on the table, I pick up the large black feather domed headdress sat aside from earlier.

“What’s that?” he wonders, squinting to get a better view of it.

“It’s a mask, well a kind of mask,” I answer, holding it out with both hands.

“Is this another sensory deprivation thing?” he inquires with a smug smile. The boy is learning.

“Well look at you, studying up.” I deliver in an equally self-satisfied tone. His bottom lip juts out in a pout. He doesn’t like it when I taunt him.

“Of course I studied. You don’t expect me to let you do anything you want without me knowing what it is, do you?”

“You’re right little one,” I pause, observing his face scrunch up at the term of endearment.

“Don’t patronize me,” he huffs. Bowing my head to hide my grin at his remark, I take a step towards him.

“Patronize you? Why would I ever do such a thing?”

“To annoy me,” he answers.

“Annoy you? Come now _little one_ , why would I wish to annoy you?” my voice drips off my tongue like the sweetest honey.

“You’re doing it now,” he grumbles with a low sigh.

“I’m only teasing you,” I whisper, standing behind him. “I’ve been thinking of something to call you and this seems to fit.”

“What happened to pet?”

“Pet is generic; I call all of my new clients pet as a placeholder until I can think of something more suitable.”

“What types of names to you usually use?”

“Depends on the client. Some like filthy names and others don’t.”

“And you think little one fits me?” Ciel asks in an almost sarcastic tone.

“Well, it was just a thought,” I shrug.

“I’ll allow it.”

“Oh well that’s very gracious of you my lord,” I snort and his head snaps to me.

“So you don’t wish to try it?”

“No,” he dismisses and crosses his arms over his chest.

“No?” I repeat, the inflection of my voice rises with curiosity. He’s acting quiet snotty today, I will have to repay him in turn for his behavior.

“Well I,” he hesitates.

“Go on?”

“Nothing bad will happen?”

“Has anything bad happened to you so far?”

“No, but,” he stutters but stops as I run my hand down his back.

He twitches under my gentle touch and I can feel how hot his skin is under his shirt. Ciel’s arm moves back as his hand almost touches my thigh but I move back before any contact is made.

“Have you decided?”

“You can put the mask on me,” he settles.

“Very well, stand still,” I instruct. Ciel’s head bobs instinctively to acknowledge my order.

Pressing my chest against his back, his whole body shudders from the vibration of my hum. The music in the background hits my ears. Letting the sharp singing strings wash over me and the atmosphere of the room change my senses, my shoulders roll to steady me. Ciel breathes out; his collapsing chest pushes the arch of his spine into me. He feels loose as though I could knock him over with a feather.

Gloved hands delicately trail down from his shoulders right to his forearms. His nose twitches as it picks up the heady scent of leather wafting through the air. My hands move up and down his arms with the languid pace of a leaf picked up by the autumn breeze. Ciel rocks, shifting from side to side, enjoying the feel of me against him.

“How does that feel little one?”

“Good,” he murmurs without protest of the pet name.

Making a path towards his chest and then along his stomach, fingers trace each button of his cardigan, circling and tugging at them.

“I’m going to unbutton your cardigan now,” I inform and again, Ciel acknowledges me with a nod.

My fingers make steady work of undoing his buttons. His hands ball and glue themselves to his sides as I work my way down. Prying the last one open, Ciel sighs out as though he’s been released from the constrictive bondage of a tight laced corset, a sound I know all too well.

Removing my hands completely, he shifts forward feeling the weight of my absence on him. Tugging at the cuffs I pull it off his shoulders and from his body, dropping it into a crumpled pile beside him. There’s something about making a mess of designer clothes that tickles me.

Still standing behind, my arms are open, as they don’t touch him. With as much manageable skill in these gloves, my fingers work to loosen the knot of his tie. When it unravels, it’s pulled from his neck and joins the burgeoning pile of clothes.

Tugging his shirt from its tuck, the fabric falls against his slim hips.

Slow and measured steps pace around him. The background strings hit a shrill high not rattling his spine, snapping his back upright and to attention. Stopping in front of him, my hands reach out to pluck his shirt.

“This needs to come off,” I muse. Starting from the top I begin to undo the buttons, rolling them slowly through the buttonhole. My ears pick up the softest little gulp from my captive as each released button exposes a little more of him. I don’t know what he’s thinking or what he’s feeling, I can only read his body language. “What’s the matter little one?” I ask with cheek. Ciel swallows once more and then clears his throat but his mouth stays shut. “Well?”

“I’m nervous,” he whispers, his voice barely making it through the wings.

“I’ve seen you naked before.”

“I know,” he pauses to swallow a dry lump down his throat. “I didn’t say it was a bad nervous. I’m excited, it’s a good nervous.” He adds, un-balling his fists only for them to be clinched up again.

“Is that so?” I coo, arriving at the last button. “I’m glad.”

“You are?”

“Of course, I want you to be excited. I want you to enjoy this and to enjoy me.”

“I do enjoy you,” he breathes out. His admission makes me smile, I know he does and yet hearing his confession out loud still pleases me.

After the last button, Ciel’s shirt falls open revealing his toned torso. He doesn’t strike me as athletic or having any athletic ability for that matter. However, his body is taunt and firm to the touch. Smooth skin, enticing lines one can trace with their fingers, something I intend to do.

With one step I’m against him. Palms lay flat on his stomach as fingers fan out under the loose fabric of his shirt. Slowly, my hands travel up his sides and his body responds in turn with a sharp jerk and little squeal. Not letting that reaction detour me, I continue but this time with a feather light touch. Ciel jerks once more and I smile.

“Little one, are you ticklish?” he responds with a weak whine. “I’ll have to make note of that then,” I growl. Ciel whines again but this time much louder.

My hands run from his sides up to his shoulders and neck. Slipping down the back a ways, I maneuver his shirt from his shoulders, letting the sleeves glide down his arms.

I want to touch him further but he’s still partially dressed. With the slightest of ceremony, I work to free him from the little fabric he has on. Unbuttoning his trousers and a swift pull of the zip brings them tumbling down. Hooking both index fingers into the waistband of his silk boxers. Who is he trying to kid? I’ve played with Ciel for a few sessions now and each time he has worn boxers. Not striking me as one to wear such boorish undergarments, I can imagine him in something more chic and fitting his elegant aesthetic. Still, running my fingers along the band, they are of course, the very best quality.

Sinking down to my knees and taking the boxers with me they slide down his slender legs, only to land at his ankles. With a small tap to his calf Ciel is signaled to lift his leg, stepping out of both the trouser leg and boxer.

Fingers wrap around his wrists taking their time in guiding his arms up above his head.

“Hold them here,” I instruct before making quick work of fastening the lined cuffs to his wrists. Ciel struggles against the ties but settles into his new position. “Comfortable?” I check in. His head jerks with a muted grunt. “I’m sorry little one, you’ll have to use your words, I’m not fluent in petulance.” I reply with sarcasm. After another grunt, this time in annoyance.

“As comfortable as I’m going to be,” he snorts.

“No need to ruffle your feathers, I can’t make this too easy for you, where would the fun be for me?”

“Where indeed?” he grumbles under his breath.

I know most would take umbrage with his attitude but I actually enjoy his combative nature. He doesn’t top from the bottom; he only makes snarky remarks. This has become our dynamic, something I’m about to show how much I enjoy.

Taking a step back to admire the view, my brain works for a good place to start. Tugging at the fingertips of my gloves I pull them off and drop them alongside the clothing pile.

Ciel shudders, not from a chill in the room but from anxious anticipation. Humming and reaching over to grab the mask, I move to stand in front of him I part the black feathers of the wings, spreading them wide open.

“I’m going to put this on you now.”

“Okay,” he nods as the mask comes up behind his head.

“I want you to focus on me,” I say with my face creeping closer to his. “I’m going to stand close to you and touch you, all right?” Ciel obediently nods. “Shall we begin?” I inquire with a smile.

My knee slides between his legs to part them as I make myself comfortable against his chest. We're face to face now, staring at each other with unblinking eyes. Ciel draws in a slow breath to calm himself before he nods, letting me know he's ready to start. The wings closes around our heads, like the nestling caress of a crow protecting its chick and I rest my forehead on his.

It’s dark. Long lashes sweep across my nose and cheeks making my fists clench. The hot breath he emits from parted lips hits my face and I inhale it. My senses are heightened as the outside worlds disappears behind this mask. There is no music or noise, just the sound of air expelling from our lungs. The feel of him near me burns through my clothes as though I’m next to a furnace. Taking a deep breath, I fill my lungs with his scent, he smells like freshly brewed black tea and bergamot. Such a heady aroma, it makes my mouth water, needing to either taste it or wear it on my clothes.

It takes a moment to settle in and get my fill of him, my mind is silenced and I turn my attention to the patient creature connected to me.

Fingers delicately drag up his sides. A sharp gasp followed by a shudder lets me know he’s excited. Carrying on with their explorative journey my fingers crawl up his biceps only to slide back down again. Soft skin reacts to fingertips tracing patterns into it as his chest heaves with each delicate stroke.

“Oh little one, you feel so good,” I utter in the softest tone.

Ciel moves into me, arching his back to press his small frame into mine. His pleased hum vibrates through me and I respond with a pinch to his ass.

There is no one here but the two of us. The world could fall to ruin and we would never know. In this moment, he is everything to me as I am to him and it’s wonderful. Typically, I oppose this type of contact, it doesn’t break any of my rules but I’d rather not encourage the client. However, I’m in a good mood today and this feels better than I thought it would. I need more contact, I’m desperate to claw into his unblemished flesh to make my mark.

Using my hips against his, I guide him in a gentle sway from side to side. Placing my hands on his back, they run from his shoulders and behind his neck. Hot air breezes across my face just as blackened nails dig into his skin. Ciel gasps, alarmed by the sudden action. Clawing my way down his back gives him cause to whimper. The high pitched sound hits my ears only to make them ring. We dance together, riding the rhythm of our own beat. He feels good to me, fitting against my chest better than my favorite shirt.

Air escapes my lungs as I sigh out. Ciel trembles, stiffening his body to keep his knees from buckling.

“What’s the matter little one?” I ask in a husky, teasing tone.

“I want to feel you,” he admits on a whine.

“To feel me?”

“Yes,” he breathes. The restraints tense with each wriggle of his wrists.

“Why do you want to feel me?” I goad. Ciel gives a dissatisfied mewl. His body arches into me, desperate to make even the slightest bit of connection.

“Please,” he whispers with a voice so delicate, it would have been missed if I wasn’t standing so close.

“Please what?”

He whimpers, “Please.”

“Where are your manners little one? I trained you better,” I growl, raking my nails down his back. Ciel responds with a jerk, pulling against the ties. “One more time.”

“Please Sir, please, please let me touch you,” he begs. A small shiver of titillation runs down my spine.

“Well you know that’s not going to happen,” I inform him.

Ciel’s jaw drops but no words pour out, just an annoyed whine of dissatisfaction. _Poor darling._ Clenching his muscles and wiggling against me. He thinks he’s tormented now but I’ve only just begun.

His cock pushes into my thigh, landing hard against the tight leather. I must admit, I’m surprised by how ridged it is. Is a little gentle touching all it takes to get him so worked up? We’ve never spoken about his love life and it’s obviously none of my business, however, each time he’s here it I’ve learned that it doesn’t take much to turn him on. I wonder how he gets satisfaction outside of our sessions? What does he do to feel any sort of pleasure? I suppose that’s not my concern, especially as he’s here now and I want him to feel pleasure with me.

Leaning in, my leg rotates to give his cock a gentle massage. Ciel tenses up, then lets out the sweetest most desperate moan. I bet this feels good. With each shake of my hips I alternate the pressure to grind hard and then ease up as I continue to rake my nails up his sides and across his underarms.

“Fuck,” he groans through gritted teeth when I press hard.

“Language, little one,” I reprimand with a smirk in the dark.

My little deviant creature gives an exasperated sigh before sinking down, squeezing his thighs around mine to control my motions. Ciel moves with such confidence, it’s difficult not to be taken over by the cadence of his hips and to forget who is leading whom.

“Please,” he begs.

“Why do you want to feel me?” I ask again.

“I have to,” he whines. “My whole body aches for you,” he admits.

“That must have been embarrassing for you to admit such a thing to me,” I taunt and he replies with a weak grunt. I shall take that as a yes.

Is there any greater pleasure than knowing someone wants you? To know you’re desired so fiercely? Ciel doesn’t strike me as the type to gush his feelings. He keeps himself restricted and under such tight control, I’m unsure if he ever expresses any joy or sadness in his everyday life. What I do know is when he’s here, when he’s with me, he seems like a different person all together. He’s open, vulnerable and obedient.

Choosing not to use words Ciel demonstrates his want for me. Grinding against my knee, riding it for his satisfaction.

This is how I control him and where my strength comes from. Not from the act of tying someone up or telling them what to do, it’s in their desire for me. It’s what they want from me and knowing I can deliver.

Want me so badly your body aches. Need me so much you can feel it in every nerve ending, from your toes to your teeth. Desire me so deeply that in this hour, you completely forget who you are and lose yourself in the moment.

Such surrender is where I draw my power. If I can make you need me and then deny you even the slightest taste, then I have you

Ciel is exquisite just like this, hips firm against me, his body writhing as he gasps. My glorious little deviant creature is showing how desperate he is for me. He is unlike the others, the ones who beg for me to take them. All he wants at this moment is to feel me.

The dulcet sounds of his moans fill the mask as I claw his back and shoulders. A little hiss lets me know I’ve dug too deep and I stroke the afflicted area to soothe him.

I could do this all day but I’ve been in here for far too long. I try and time the session with each track played, however, as I’ve been in this mask and focusing on him, I lost track of time. It’s easy to get lost in someone like him. He’s the kind of person I know who makes you work for every ounce of gratification. Even though things seem to come out of him easily, it’s not without effort or work. I study him and memorize what will get the desired response. I’ve learned how to touch him and where, which area will get him to sing out as pleasantly as a tuned violin and which will make him scream.

Before I allow myself to get lost any further in the moment, I mentally command my hands to slide down his sides before relinquishing him. Ciel’s whole body displays disappointment, from the way his back arches to push his chest into mine. The sound of wrists fighting the restraints. A tongue flickering out to moisten his bottom lip.

That’s it little one, want me. Want what I have instore for you.

Angling my head up, our lips brush together but no real contact is made.

“I’m going to leave you now,” I inform him.

“No,” his meek voice twinges with sadness at the suggestion. Choosing not to respond I part the wings and free myself from the confines before closing them around his face once more. Everything comes flooding back as the sounds of the outside world knocks me back to my senses.

Taking a moment to cast my eyes over him, a quick check of his wrists assures me there’s no redness or pinching of the skin. Giving him one last look a grin creeps onto my lips. I’ve seen Ciel’s naked body before but seeing it as it is now, back straight with legs apart, his head drooping down and his chest heaving, he looks so helpless and it’s sexy.

Rolling my neck and relaxing my shoulders again, I draw in a deep breath, clearing my mind on the exhale. I’m focused, riding my high from all the excitement and anticipation. Having one last calm moment to drink him in, my eyes narrow as I’m now ready to begin.

Not wanting to lose momentum I grab one of the implements sat aside earlier on the table. Holding it by the handle and drawing the thin leather straps across my palm, the tail trickles down releasing a delicious scent of fresh suede. Taking slow deliberate steps towards my captive, lips curl with excitement. Bringing the flogger up the tail dangles over the tops of his shoulders and then down the center of his back following the line of his spine.

“Ah,” a muffled moan escapes from the cracks of feathers on the mask. He approves of this sensation; I smile to myself. Letting it sink further down to his lower back, Ciel’s fists clench and his body spasms with a sharp shiver.

“Isn’t this nice?” I ask, drawing the tail back up to his shoulders. Holding it away from his neck and taking the loose strands, I let them fall against his upper back in drips. Even though the light in the room is dim I can see his skin stand to attention with each goosebump.

Standing closer to him and continuing to dangle the tail over his shoulders, my free hand goes down his side and slides over to his pert butt cheek. It follows the curve down from the top to underneath and to his thigh. The movements are not as sweet and gentle as they would normally be. They’re rough, grabbing the skin to give it a firm squeeze. Ciel writhes and groans with each pinch and tap against him.

Dropping the flogger down, I focus on his backside. Giving his ass a little tap on each cheek, Ciel returns with a nervous giggle. I do it again, this time with a few rapid and sharp taps across each cheek. A deep moan seeps out from underneath the mask and I do it once more. Each tap is sharp but not hard, this isn’t a race, he needs to be eased into things.

After a few more I increase the amount, varying from side to side. Ciel leans forward to present himself to me and I reward his offering with a harder, stinging spank. He cries out but continues to lean into it, rocking his hips from side to side. If I thought he was hard when I was stroking him a moment ago, he’s rock solid now. I must admit, I’m impressed. I’d like to see him do something with it, not wanting it to go to waste but that will have to wait.

Landing a few more quick spanks on his flushed cheeks and I feel he’s ready for more. One more slap and my hand stays where it lands, feeling the red hot heat emanating from his skin. With a few gliding strokes to ease the stinging, I pinch the redness making him wince.

Gathering the tail into my hand, I twist it together and hold it by the tip. Eyes scan his backside, looking for the perfect spot. Of course, I know the exact location to start. Angling myself in to the right stance, I adjust my grip on the handle and release the tail with a sharp flick of my wrist. The tail snaps against his ass with a loud crack causing him to gasp and his toes to curl.

“Oh come on little one, that’s not bad at all.” I tease, winding up the tail again and whipping it against the other cheek. Ciel cries out, pulling against the restraints. “I think you’re protesting too much; you’ve had worse from me.” I remind him, cracking the tail on his ass.

He’s taking this better than expected.

Each time the tail lashes against him, alternating sides, from one cheek to the other. Ciel moves like an ant on hot asphalt. He quivers, shakes but eventually rides the waves of pain. It spreads through his body, starting from one point before dissipating throughout. His fist clenches, then releases.

He becomes primal, grunting and growling with each lick the tail gives his redden skin. Working him hard, Ciel responds with an arch in his spine, pushing his ass further out, directing me where to go. With his body’s permission, I begin again, harder this time. I don’t like to test the limits of clients, preferring to build their endurance each time I see them.

A song plays out, snapping me out of my headspace. The tune is familiar but I can’t quite place it as it bleeds into the current track playing. My head cranes around to find the source of the music but I can’t seem to locate it anywhere in the room.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Ciel gasps, wiggling around to try and reach something but soon forgetting his wrists are bound.

“What is that?” I ask looking around for the source of the sound.

“It’s um, my phone.”

“Your phone?” I say more to myself than him. Eyes shoot up to his wrists and I see they’ve gotten a little red. Deciding to call time on our session, I reach up and unclip the cuffs from the hook, taking care to guide his arms down. Once his hands rest on his stomach, I unlatch the cuffs and rub his wrists.

“Are we done?” he wonders, rolling his wrists side to side.

“You know the rules Ciel, your phone must be switched off for the session. You know that once a rule is broken, the session is over.” I chide.

“I know, I forgot.”

Humming, I peel the mask from his sweaty face and sit it down on the table. Ciel stares at me with a look of pure confusion as I walk back over to him, holding out his boxers. Putting them on, he keeps his head low to avoid eye contact with me

“I’m not mad,” I try to assure him and he returns with a weary disappointed head bob to acknowledge me. Standing behind him I pull his boxers down and inspect his ass for any bruising. Feeling satisfied, they’re pulled back up as I place my hands on his shoulders, pushing him to his knees. I follow suit. Legs spread around him and I rock him back onto my chest. Ciel collapses into me, kicking his legs out to stretch. Thumbs press into his shoulder blades, rotating and massaging as fingers work the top.

Ciel’s body jerks with a wince before he settles into my hands.

“That feels good,” he breathes out, moving side to side to get comfortable.

“How was that?” I inquire.

“It was painful but okay,” he answers and I can tell he’s smiling. There’s something in his voice that gives him away. All of his emotions and truths, the things he likes to hide are all betrayed in the timber of his voice.

“You seem to be more receptive,” I note.

“It’s not as though I’ve been practicing by myself or anything,” he quips.

“Oh, of course not little one,” I smile and his body tightens up.

“That again,” he snorts.

“Do you really not like it?”

Ciel leans forward away from my hands for a second. He feigns a stretch, twisting his back a bit before pushing himself deeper into my fingers.

“No, I like it,” he mumbles and I continue to massage his shoulders and neck.

“Oh?”

His head bobs into my chest. “It’s like you have ownership of me.”

“Within the confines of these four walls I do,” my voice comes out in a low growl, which makes him shudder. “In here you are mine and mine alone.”

Ciel lets out a satisfied hum, relaxing his body into mine.

“How are your hands always so hot?”

“I don’t know,” I shrug, rolling my knuckles into his back. He says my hands are hot but he’s the one who is so fiery to me. I’ve spent the many sessions touching him, feeling and stroking his skin. Ciel is always so warm under my fingertips. Flushed skin burns me with each sliding caress but it’s calming, familiar and comforting. It feels good to touch him.

This part of the session is something I seem to find contentment in, the ritual of sitting him in my lap, holding and stroking him. The ending of a session is different with each client, however, with Ciel it seems I’ve found a sort of comfort in him. He is nothing short of chaos but it’s become a peaceful one, one I ease into.

“I’m sorry for breaking the rules.”

“I know you are, however don’t think you won’t be punished for it next session,” I state with a dry chuckle. “I don’t take kindly to rule breaking.”

Ciel makes an audible gulp, “I know.”

“By the way, what was the ring tone? It sounded familiar.”

“Oh, um, it was one of the songs you played last week.”

“Was it now? I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Normally I don’t but I heard it again in the hallway as I left, so I used an app to see what it was.” He shrugs on a yawn.

“And made it your ring tone?”

“I just liked it, okay?” he half snaps back at me, grumbling something I can’t quite catch.

“You are a strange creature Ciel,” I mumble under my breath. Thankfully he didn’t hear my comment as he sighs, pushing into my chest. He must find comfort in me too. His whole demeanor changes from tense and uptight to a purring kitten in my lap.

Well settle like this for a few minutes, both enjoying to peace and calm in each other. Ciel’s head rolls from side to side, swaying to the gliding strings still playing in the background. I was right, this is certainly the type of music he likes. I’ll have to find more for the next session.

Eyes glance up to the clock I see our time is up.

Using my chest to nudge him, I guide him up to his feet. Ciel staggers around to find his balance. Stumbling over to the clothing pile on the floor, he grunts with each labored move he makes. I like seeing him like this, a normally ridged body loose and flexible with his shoulders down.

“You just left my clothes here in a pile?” he groans a complaint, picking up his trousers and shaking them out.

“What should I have done with them? Hung them up?” I smile, causing him to crease his brow.

“No, perhaps not but you could have folded them neatly. They’ll be wrinkled now,” he gripes, tugging his trousers up over his hips. Going over to him and kneeling down, I hook the neck of his cardigan in my finger and hold it out to him.

“I’ll bear that in mind for next time,” I shrug and he snatches the article of clothing.

“See that you do,” he warns. His nose twitches as he fights off a grin, a cheeky one, no doubt.

Ciel knows full well that before and after a session, he can say and do whatever he pleases, however when it comes to my turn, I’m the one in control. It’s in this type of banter I see his true nature, a playful little brat with a masochistic streak. He knows I’ll pay him back for his snarky impudence.

After straightening his tie and gabbing his coat, Ciel is ready to leave. He stands by the door with his hand on the handle but before he goes, he turns back to me.

“Same time next week?” he asks and I nod.

“See you again, Ciel.”

He takes a deep breath and twists the handle. The door opens slowly and Ciel slips into the hallway as fast as he came in. He’s probably off on his way back to work. I wonder what he does? I’m not one to pry into people’s private life but he’s interesting. Given that he wants to find ways to lose control, it stands to reason he’s someone in charge. He’s obviously in his twenties so I guess it could be a tech company, we are in San Francisco after all. Maybe? I don’t know but it’s fun to speculate.

In any case, Ciel never ceases to surprise me.

He never notices the color coded toys, he made no comment on the outfit, the leather and look I constructed just for him but he remembers the music playing in the background. I thought he was oblivious to all my efforts but I am pleasantly surprised to know not everything went unnoticed.

In all honesty, the sheer act of pleasing Ciel gives me such a euphoric high, I may not come down this afternoon. I find myself addicted to him. The sounds he makes and the rhythm of his body, I need it.

I can’t wait to feel this again and to get my fix at the same time next week.


End file.
